Memories of Water
by MultiFandomSF
Summary: Post X3, Jean lives, AU. “And in the future, ironically, only Jean, the most unstable and damaged, can in her infinite awareness save them all.” 11 up. JL. COMPLETE, please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

Memories of Water

* * *

In her dreams, there is no Alkali Lake, no disjunction between duty and desire. Jean Grey has a world that is free of hurt and harm, free from lack of control and tragedy.

It never was, never will be.

And now, Scott, best friend and would be husband, is dead. She killed the Professor too, doesn't matter that he's come back to life. To everyone, she will just be the woman with the fiery red hair, the one who killed her lover and her father figure too.

There is no psychiatrist powerful enough to unlock her mind, and no one that wants to.

At Alcatraz, she knew subconsciously there were two ways to end the madness that had begun. One, she could let Wolverine come close, two, they would somehow force their way forward with the boy. The second was unlikely; she'd rip him to pieces before he got close enough to rip her powers away.

And then the end came, and kept coming, because there were no claws in his hands, only a needle and an antidote.

When Jean felt her mind and body returning to Earth, she began to scream, because there was nothing left for her or anyone she'd ever loved.

* * *

"JEAN! Jean! You've got to calm down! You've got quiet down!"

Backwards, everything is going backwards, the sky is whirling around and her eyes are rolling backwards, past Logan's aggravated face and snarled sentiments and backwards. She is screaming hysterically, whimpering as she writhes, stopped only by his arms pinning her down. They're still on the pavement, she's pinned on the asphalt she blew apart and now she only feels empty. She's screaming because of what she's done, and what will happen now. Strength is leaking out of her in waves. Now she has no power and she will be so alone. It doesn't take a superpower to see the future.

They're running now, Jean's in Logan's arms and he's running to catch up with Storm, to get her away from the carnage because she'll never be a person again after this. In the human world, she'd be put to death and _my god_, she thinks, she's only human now.

The sky is rushing past her, growing dimmer and dimmer as she stop struggling and tries to fall asleep and die in Logan's arms. It's like coming down, down farther down, past the stars and headlights and conscious thought, the phoenix was a magnificent high of power and control and she's only ever wanted control. Now, Jean's down, going down, below the streets and she's still flying.

Anguished, as he sees her fading, Logan starts to yell again.

"JEAN! NO! You've got to stay…oh god stay here Jean, I promise, we'll figure things out…"

Then Kitty starts to yell, swearing and cursing, she's crying now, things like "You bitch! You don't deserve-don't you can't come back! You shouldn't…no…!" Jean can't see with her eyes closed anymore, and she opens them to Kitty's tear stained cheeks and Logan arms wrapped around her.

"Logan?" she whispers, Kitty's wailing becoming less in the background.

"Shh, don't try to talk—"

"Why didn't you let me go?"

Then, Jean slips into unconsciousness—tears only beginning to well in her eyes—to awake later in the Mansion, alone save for Logan's patched attempts at waking her.

With that, a portrait is framed that will symbolize their futures, all of them. Kitty in the background, screaming into oblivion now, only frustration and anger and nothing else. Bobby holding her back, arms wrapped tight, face filled with shock and disbelief. Storm off to the side, tears streaking down her face, hand over mouth, eyes beginning to harden.

And then there is Logan, holding Jean's limp body in his arms, dark eyes in a terrorized expression as he gazes at the scene around him, and looking down to the broken woman before him, realizes the enormity of what he has done.

* * *

Disclaimer: X-Men not mine.

A/N: Attempting to write another Jean Grey story, hopefully in character. This will be an angst!fest work in progress, written when I feel up/down to it. Hope you enjoy, whether you do or not, I'd welcome reviews urging me on, or telling me how to do better.

Thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

"…shit…why won't this—dammit…"

There's a dull throbbing in her skull. Wait, no. It sounds more like Logan, angrily kicking one of the Medbay's panels in an attempt to get it open.

"Logan?"

"Oh Jean, you're awake, I'm trying—"

"Keypad on the left."

"Oh…do they all have keypads…because this was working just fine…"

Jean sighs, and tries to move, only to find herself restrained, hands, legs, body held to the medical table. And now, there is a hollow pit of fear in her stomach, she's feeling the blood drain from her face as she whispers, "Logan, why can't I move? Did I…did I hurt someone? Logan!"

"Shh, Jean, everything's fine, no you didn't touch anyone. You've been out like a light since we left the island." His voice is soothing, but tired, his hand on her forehead, and she feels calmer but she can still feel the dread seeping through her limbs, and with Logan's next words, Jean knows everything was not a dream.

"Storm…she thought this was necessary, a precaution. I'm sorry." He nervously rubs the back of his head, eying her uneasily.

She doesn't ask him to take off the restraints. Jean knows he would, but feels that she deserves this more than she deserves any sort of freedom.

So they sit there for several minutes; Jean strapped to an examining table, Logan perched next to her, averting his eyes, but still absentmindedly stroking her forehead. It strikes her now that the haphazard bandages that cover injuries were not done by Ororo or…there is no one else. They left him alone down here, to do what he wanted. Storm cared only enough to see that no one else was killed.

Despite the fact that Jean no longer has any telepathy, she can still remember what she felt as the Phoenix. The feelings linger in the back of her mind, sights and sounds and above all, infinite power and wisdom that stretched into every possible path the future could take. She remembers seeing this, and knew death to be better than any form life could take after the destruction.

She asks him again, though she already knows the answer.

"Why didn't you let me go?"

He stares at her then, fixing her gaze with piercing eyes, at least she can tell he's not defeated, not yet.

"Because I thought you deserved a second chance."

A dry sob escapes her lips, and she looks away, helplessly. "Logan, there's no second chance after what I did. I'll never have an excuse for—" she chokes, unable to continue.

"Logan," Jean tries to breath, to concentrate, and continues, "I don't even remember what I did to Scott, _I don't even remember_…and the Professor? I was angry, it wasn't some malevolent other side to me, that was _me_. It will never matter what I think, what I feel, because they are gone. They're gone Logan. They're never coming back."

_I wasn't meant too either._

He doesn't say a word, only begins to unbuckle the restraints, because the situation is too awkward. She still doesn't move, just closes her eyes, and tries to stop feeling. Exhaustion is ebbing through her, and all she can feel is self-pity and self hatred, hatred of herself and her own pity, webs of emotions that she shouldn't feel, shouldn't be allowed too. Happiness if far out of reach, it isn't hers, shouldn't be hers. And all that's left is a tired hatred, anger that she can't be allowed to be anything but a melancholy shadow, anger that even a small piece of her thinks there should be something else.

So she lies there, and Logan gathers her up in his arms, leaning her against him. Her head comes to rest on his shoulder, and Jean lets her mind go blissfully blank. Only Logan and out of all of them, he's probably the most sensitive. The irony almost makes her laugh.

Almost.

"Jean…" The soft rumble of his voice brushes against her ear, stubble against her cheek. "I love you…I meant what I said."

She only murmurs in reply, there are not enough words in an infinite universe to convince him he is wrong. And in some way, she is glad for the company. The rest of her is only sorry that he won't find happiness as long as he tries to find her.

Logan kisses her forehead, and lifts her up, carrying her upstairs in the dead of night.

In bed, as she feigns sleep and Logan falls asleep, despite his vigilance, she wishes could love him back.

* * *

Review, por favor. Thanks to those who have, you brighten my day :)


	3. Chapter 3

_nobody said it was easy_

_no one ever said it would be so hard_

-coldplay, "the scientist"

* * *

"—Logan how could you even think to—" "It was a hard choice what you were gonna keep—" "Of course! You think…safe up here down there...**she's a danger to us all**."

Jean awakes to the sound of Storm's furious voice outside her door, and Logan in counterpoint. The clock says it's one in the afternoon, and only then does she realize she's in her old room. Scott's room.

"This isn't up to you!" "Not up to you either." "The Professor left me in charge; I've been here since I was a little girl, what gives you the right to make decisions that affect everyone here?" "Lot of good your girlhood's doin' Jean now." "This isn't Jean anymore—"

No, Jean thinks, it's really not. Jean and Scott stare back at her from the nightstand, frozen with happy smiles and arms wrapped around each other. She can't even remember where the picture was taken; she doesn't want to remember. She turns the picture face down with the palm of her hand, leaving a resounding crack to hover in the air.

The voices in the hallway stop. After several second, Logan unceremoniously swings open the door and pokes his head in, inquisitively asking, "Jean?"

She cracked the glass in the frame.

Wearily, she says, "Good morning."

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

From the background, she hears in a soft hiss: "…when I asked if you were ready to do what you had to, this is not what I meant…"

She must have paled, because Logan's face darkens as he withdraws from the doorway, swinging the door shut with such fury that the wall vibrates.

Now he's shouting, voice still a low growl, but he's hoarse and tired and she can hear how tense he is.

"We didn't kill Magneto, did we? We didn't kill most of 'em and they've been asking for it longer than she has—what, you assumed I was going to just kill her when we were savin' everyone else? What kind of hypocrite are you?"

"The other weren't insane and the others didn't kill Scott and the Professor!" shouts Storm, her voice a shrill, anguished whine.

The argument is over, in the next minute, it is pouring rain and thunder is shaking the entire mansion. Logan angrily walks into the room, and slams the door behind him, coming to lean on it. He's breathing heavily, his face a mixture of fury and sadness.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

The words he speaks could easily be hers, or vice versa.

"She'll…come around. Or we'll leave. We can go anywhere Jean, someplace no one knows you, someplace…you could start over."

She's still in bed, sheets tangled around her and knees up to her chest, tragic, dark eyes set in a tired face. "I won't take you away from them Logan, they need you more than I…and I…there's no way I can run away from this."

He moves towards her, settles down on the bed and takes her face in his hands. Both are weary, and he is trying, so hard, to make things just a little better. Logan draws her closer, kisses her softly, before she draws away.

"No…just—not now."

He moves back, voice quiet and says "Alright."

"I think…I think I'll go shower."

"I'll bring you something to eat. I don't think you should come downstairs quite yet."

She nods, eyes downcast. Jean's staring at the face down picture on the table. She doesn't deserve anyone anymore, but maybe she can preserve what little dignity she has left. Logan turns to leave, striding slowly towards the door.

"And Logan?" He turns back, hesitantly, hopefully.

"Thank you."

He nods slightly and pauses, before continuing.

* * *

Only later, as she is crouched underneath the warm stream of water thinking of Alkali Lake and loneliness, of drowning and losing everyone, does Jean Grey allow herself to cry.

* * *

A/N: 

Thank you, thank you to all of my reviewers. I'm so grateful for your kind reviews.

To those who have asked, there may be a sequel (maybe) dealing with the whole Jean regaining her powers bit. However, I'm going away to a camp soon for about five weeks, so for all I know, this story alone may not be finished.

Happy moments? What happy moments? JK, I realize it's hard to read unending angst, however my take on "if Jean lived" is a bleak one, so "happy moments" may just be little nuggets of hope thrown in here and there, with happy left for a sequel.

Hope you enjoyed chapter 3 :)


	4. Chapter 4

The mansion is covered in a sense of death; the hallways are hushed and newer students unsure where they stand. It is impossible to mourn those one did not know.

Outside, the weather is dark and stormy, lightning flashing and thunder rumbling through the quiet school. Down the hall, there is light laughter where some are attempting to return to normality. Marie is swatting Bobby's hand away, he was trying to steal her chess piece, and they're both laughing, hand on hand. Maybe something good came of this. Kitty is trying not to smile, but is failing miserably. Soon, they're all laughing hysterically because they don't know what to do anymore.

It is in this atmosphere that Logan asks Jean to take a walk.

* * *

"I don't think anyone would appreciate seeing me walking around the school."

"Well they can go to hell—besides no one's doing anything except for hanging around all the usual places. You can't stay up here forever—"

He stops abruptly; Jean's glaring at him from the window ledge. Bitterly, she says "And what would you expect me to do, Logan, waltz downstairs, announce my presence, and then beg for forgiveness?"

"You cannot seriously think that you're just gonna spend eternity rotting away is this damn room." Logan growls.

"No, actually, I was planning on moving out, because I can't stand living in my _dead boyfriend's room_ and staring at a life that I destroyed!

They stand facing each other, his face angry in the light that fills the room and Jean bitter, hopeless. Eventually, Logan tries to continue.

"I'm just trying…to help, you know. You can't stay here forever and you won't leave, what do you want me to do—"

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Logan, you just can't understand, what it was like," she pauses, voice dropping lower, "my power before, I could see everything. You can't even comprehend…I saw the way things could end in every direction."

"You don't have to act proud, Jean. No one would be. You're not. But you have to come out sometime."

She nods, and begins to walk towards him, lightning reflecting off her face and hair. For a moment, Logan thinks she smiles, but it is too dark to be sure.

They leave the room to a well lit hallway, quiet giggling echoing down the corridor. Logan with his hand against Jean's back, as if to steady her, and she makes no move to end the contact. With the door slam, he sees Rogue and Kitty down the hall; they lean their heads towards the doorway so they can see who comes and goes. For a moment, Logan makes eye contact with Rogue—Marie—and he does not see anger, or even fear. She nods towards him, and between them, there is something of a quiet acceptance. Bobby on her left looks frightened, and Kitty…her face is dark and her eyes only display a cold fury.

He guides Jean downstairs to the kitchen, grabs himself a bowl, spoon, milk and cereal. Jean takes an unknown substance from the refrigerator and prepares her own meal.

Outside, it is still pouring; somewhere in the mansion, probably in the Professor's old room, Storm is in hysterics. Somehow, Logan can't find a reason to care. Jean looks deep in thought, mind somewhere else, but he thinks it must be so quiet now for her.

For a few minutes, they sit in melancholy silence, Logan glances at Jean; Jean is hunched over her plate. And suddenly, she is laughing, because Logan, the mighty Wolverine, is eating Lucky Charms cereal, and there is something amusing about seeing a jolly leprechan's face juxtaposed withLogan's cocky frownAnd all he can do is smile, before shooting her some quip he has yet to think of, because he realizes he's doing that damn thing again where he unconsciously picks out all the marshmallows.

The moment passes quickly; she quiets herself down, ashamed of feeling a tiny bit of mindless joy. But even later, there is still a smile and a glimmer of something—hope or hopeless amusement, he can't tell—in her bright, desolate eyes.

* * *

A/N

Pt. 1: Sorry if this sucks. I wrote it at 11:30 -12 ish last night, but fanfic wasnt letting me post it. Anyhow, I'm trying to figure out where to go with the story.

Pt. 2: As you might be able to tell, I don't like Storm. Or rather, Halley Berry's portrayal of Storm, and because this is the movie verse, therefore I do not like Storm. I'm going to attempt to be fair towards her, but you know, Logan said he'd die for Jean, not her.

Pt. 3: I don't own Lucky Charms, and I'm getting the feeling that was really corny. Ooops. But I'm also feeling rather ambivalent, because humor really isn't my thing, and honestly, this isn't professional writing or anything. So if you liked it, tell me. If you didn't, I'M REALLY REALLY SORRY.

Leave me reviews. Thanks.


	5. Chapter 5

The days pass by uneventfully—there are no angry outbursts, no hysterics. Rather, no one speaks to Jean at all. There is only a frigid silence that surrounds her social contact; people pass her in the hallways, in the kitchen, the subbasement, and there are always words hanging in the air, pregnant pauses that never warrant anything at all. Sometimes she wishes someone would scream at her, at least then she could stop feeling guilt, if only to feel anger or even abuse. The monotony and tense atmosphere is killing her.

She's detached herself from reality in a sense. Jean tries not to notice the stares or angry glances. Sometime, there are nods from some, acknowledging her presence and perhaps wishing to end the exile. But usually she's already looked away or bowed her head before she can catch a glimpse of anything that resembles détente.

A part of her wants to rejoin the small peaceful world that resides in the mansion. A part of Jean doesn't believe she should ever allow herself forgiveness for her actions.

Logan is always there, somehow a fixture in mansion life but also in hers. Her only friend. He always hated Cyclops, and now that she thinks of it, the Professor never truly did anything for Logan either. Fine, he accepted him, brought him into the mansion, which was always enough and always a great, noble service. Perhaps the breaking point came when he realized the Professor had always controlled her. These days, she wasn't sure if she cared or not, but to him, the caging of the beast had meant many different things.

It isn't fair to Scott to allow herself to care for Logan in a romantic way. But, if it wasn't for Logan, she thinks she would have killed herself already. There is at least one person who wants her around.

She feels like she is breaking, losing herself to the Phoenix all over again, even though her abilities are gone. Piece by piece, bit by bit. Others are tired of the silence too, and she knows that eventually, they will start to scream and maybe throw her out into the world.

There is a day when they need a doctor; one of the younger boys, a newer addition to the school, has broken an arm and someone has to set it before they take him to the hospital. She smiles at him, asks him what happened, tries to joke about it. He says not one word, only stares past her in stony silence. She has never seen this child before, and this child never met the Professor or Scott. But he hates her even so.

Jean can feel herself breaking. No part of her is in harmony with another, no part of her knows anything for sure. She's beginning to forget who hates her and who fears her, and every day feels like the one before it. The days pass, and Jean can't even muster the courage to look at anyone anymore.

There is a day when Kitty nearly tears her legs in two, but stops short—there is a bloody gash, and she can barely walk. Logan tries to bring her down the hall to the Medbay, and she starts to scream.

She will not let herself cry or feel or do anything else. But the emotions are coming through now. Jean feels like she did before Alkali Lake, she feels like she's losing control. The funny thing is, she thinks, she never really had any to begin with.

It's two in the morning—she's in the kitchen sitting at the table, staring into space—when it occurs to her how long it has been since anyone actually spoke to her, with words, not telepathy or confused glances. Nothing really counts after she died. It had to have been on the Jet, just before…she doesn't even remember what they said.

With that, she drops her head onto her arms and soundlessly begins to sob, losing track of the time. Suddenly, there's tentative hand on her shoulder and—

"Jean?"

Eyes blinking furiously, she's trying to get the tears out of her eyes and to brush away the tracks they've made down her cheeks. She can't even think to speak; her eyes are wide she embodies the clichéd deer in the headlights.

"Are you alright?"

Rogue is standing over her, tentative but not angry, hand paused above her shoulder now. She looks concerned.

"I'm-I'm fine, Marie, I'm ok." Jean stumbles over her words, trying to remember the protocol for action in this particular situation.

"You don't look it."

After a brief pause, Jean sighs, "Nothing's been alright for a while now."

"I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't be. Why are _you_ sorry?"

"I'm sorry for this whole mess, I mean, the Professor an'…everyone bein' so polarized and divided. No one's even talkin' to you."

"Not your fault."

"You didn't want to kill them, did you?"

"…no."

"Then it's not entirely your fault either."

"I'm so sorry."

"I know."

Marie's eyes are sympathetic and Jean is grateful beyond words. She starts to rummage through the refrigerator, and as Jean starts to leave, she turns back.

"Marie…thank you."

She smiles, and Jean goes upstairs. In the dark of her room, Jean falls asleep--mind blank--and she thinks maybe things could be ok.

* * *

A/N: Sorry I'm being a bit skitzophrenic in tone with this story, plodding in plot or whatever. It's more of a character bit than anything with an overarching theme beyond Jean and how life after Alcatraz could have occured.

Thanks for all the reviews.

Give me more!

:) Thanks for reading.


	6. Chapter 6

"Get out of here!" Storm screams into the air and the accompanying mini whirlwind slams Jean against the desk.

"I was only trying—trying to organize some of his things, I-I was inside his head…I know what he would have wanted done!"

Jean's crouched against the oak desk in the Professor's office, files flung haphazardly about by the wind her old friend had generated. A storm rumbles through the open window and she can feel the electricity growing around her.

"How dare you! How dare you come in here and touch his things…!"

She's trying to grab something but she must have touched something metal because the shock generated knocks her to the floor with a crack. Storm's above her with her hands raised high and eyes white with the elements, face covered in fury. Jean has the wind knocked out of her and she won't stare at Storm in defiance, she won't, there is no allowance for such a thing. Tears are rolling down her face and she so desperately wants Ororo to understand

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry," Jean sobs, trying to stand, "I don't want forgiveness, I don't deserve forgiveness, I'm just trying to help..."

"You want to help? Then leave. Turn yourself in or kill yourself, I don't care. Get out of here and let the wounds heal." Storm hisses, voice cold. She found Jean organizing the Professor's desk and she won't let Jean touch her with a bandage even after that last disastrous danger room simulation. Some at the mansion have moved on and accepted the past; Jean played a game of foozball with Bobby and Marie yesterday and she almost started to laugh, almost, almost.

"God, Storm, I would if it would change things. I would if it would bring them back!"

"You'd do it if it would make someone happy? Well, guess what, it'd make me happy."

Jean stops in her tracks, frozen. She doesn't have a power and can't hear the reverberations of any event, but she's always been a damn good judge of character, and the Professor lied to her, lied to everyone about her. For everything they've been through, Jean knows Ororo Munroe and even if she died nothing would ever change.

She starts angrily, because she's tired of fighting the other side of herself and at the very least, she knows she's right on this point.

"It wouldn't make you happy. It would never make you happy! It would make you relieved or indifferent, never happy. You'd start to wonder if it made any difference at all, you'd spend the rest of your life wishing, wishing so hard you'd forget everything around you, wishing that they weren't still dead and you still had someone to blame. I'm to blame Storm! I'm to blame!"

She's half shouting, half sobbing, and Storm is staring at her with a bitter fury, fear hidden in her eyes, deep down because Ororo knows it's true. She's inching away from Jean as she moves closer and closer, voice dropping to a whisper, "Kill me now, Storm, if it's what you want. Kill me now, you have no idea how much I've wanted it since Logan spared me on the bridge. I would do it myself but there's at least one person I'd hurt more by dying…and I'm so tired of not being allowed to feel pain or sorrow or happiness or anger."

Tears are spilling out of Storm's eyes, locked with Jean's fierce and broken gaze.

Through gritted teeth, she hisses, "I hate you."

Jean sobs, "I loved them…!"

Cold voice and the shake of the head, Storm glares.

"I will never forgive you."

Storm leaves Jean to collapse on the mansion floor, wracked by sobs as it starts to pour outside. There are doors slamming down the hall, the mansion is silent.

As Storm tries to check her emotions and Jean surrenders to her anguish, the phone is ringing down the hall. A little boy is answering the phone and a woman named Moira must talk to a…Logan?...no not Ororo, he says she's indisposed, look child I need to talk to Logan now!

For a split second, Jean can feel cold hands in her skull, gently probing and absorbing everything, and she starts to scream, because everything around her is so wrong, so wrong, and she is so lost.

* * *

A/N:

Point 1: The "I hate you…I will never forgive you" exchange is taken almost exactly from the Children of Dune miniseries. It's not mine, it's theirs. Don't shoot.

Point 2: Sunday, I leave for camp and I have no idea how much of this story will be done or how much will be updated. Funny enough, this is screenwriting camp, so chances are I'll be too busy making student scripts to work on this.

Pt. 3: How's my driving? Like, my dialogue and story and etc.

Pt. 4: Reviews beyond lovely. I'm so grateful to my loyal reviewing readers, Descena, Aannaa, AnnaMarieRaven, Jennifer Jolie, as well as those who stop by with a word of encouragement. Thanks a ton for reading and giving me your thoughts.

Hope you're enjoying so far.


	7. Chapter 7

Professor Charles Xavier returns to his mansion, and Jean Grey returns to her room. His arrival is joyous in a stunned, confused sort of way; even those who loathe Jean have the idea in the back of their minds—if he was in her head for most of her life, what about theirs? The thoughts quickly pass though.

The arrival is happy nonetheless. The students are thrilled and the remaining staff are, for the most part, joyful. He walks into the mansion, his face slightly different, but with the usual twinkle in the eye gaze his students came to expect. He's walking again, no one ever knew the Professor walking. The Professor is greeted with hugs and tearful hellos; Storm practically throws herself at him, hugging him with abandon because she has a little weight off her mind. For a few minutes, most forget that it was Jean who killed him, the Jean who stays there still. With the Professor's arrival, almost everyone forgets that Scott is dead.

It was Logan who received the fateful call—a Moira somebody or other he would tell Storm later, in stunned disbelief—and she wouldn't doubt him for a minute. The only thing she said to him in a strained, sad kind of way, was "Why didn't he talk to _me_…!"

After all the overjoyed greetings from the students, he ushers Logan and Ororo into one of the lecture halls; the obvious choice would be his study, but the shelves are still overturned and the papers flung in all directions. Jean is sitting in her room, trying to bring up mental shields and blocks, but it is so hard—impossible—when she has no psychic ability anymore. All she knows is that he was in her head, and she is so sorry but doesn't ever want his help. It's driving her mad because she doesn't see how this is possible and to her, it's just another form of punishment.

Logan is apprehensive, happy to see him, but on guard. The Professor was a mentor or a leader, but Logan followed his orders because he thought he had someone who looked out for him. He doesn't know what to make of the Professor anymore; Logan's the only one who believes that Xavier is the reason Jean is so screwed up.

They sit in tense silence as the Professor begins to speak. He tells them he's not sure what happened, beyond the battle with Jean. He says it was a conscious choice to release control; there was no other alternative. However, he continues, waking up again was not completely his doing. Of course, he tried to mentally grab hold of something, tried to find a way to stay grounded, but he didn't make the conscious choice to reawaken in a body almost identical to his own.

His narrative is short and Xavier wonders just how much he's taught his students. He's waiting for one of them to make the obvious conclusion; but he can tell Logan's known all along even without glancing at his thoughts.

"It was Jean," Logan states bluntly, and for a moment a panicked look crosses Storm's face.

Xavier nods.

"But…how? Why?" Storm breaks in, "Why would she…it doesn't make any sense."

"I don't know, Ororo. I've thought for a long time on the matter, perhaps she did not even realize what she was doing. At this point in time, I don't know how many personalities Jean has; perhaps it was merely the 'old' Jean reasserting herself for a mere moment—"

"She says the part that killed you is her too." Logan interjects, breaking the Professor's narrative.

"Of course, it is a part of herself."

"No, she said you just suppressed that side of her, she says there isn't another side to her. Maybe there was in the beginning but…now it's just her."

The Professor rises, moving to end the conversation: "I cannot fully evaluate Jean's mental state until I have delved a bit more deeply into her mind."

"Haven't you violated her enough already?" Logan growls, face narrowing into an angry sneer.

"Logan!" Storm looks shocked

But Logan continues, moving to face the Professor. "No, I mean, I'll bet you've already been poking around in her brain since you woke up. You think she wants you in her head after what you did? You've been manipulating her for her entire life! All those times when she'd go on about how she wasn't powerful enough to do this or that—she never even knew!"

The Professor stiffens, slightly, and Storm just looks shocked. Logan's hands are clenched in fists and he's practically snarling, furious gaze locked with the Professor's calm stare. Xavier pauses, and then continues, voice still level.

"On your first point, Logan, I did already attempt to access Jean's mind but have since stopped—She had a rather intense reaction; Jean was somehow able to sense me reading her thoughts despite her lack of psychic ability.

"On your second….I put mental barriers up to protect her and those around her. I had the intention of taking them down gradually…but it seemed the Phoenix personality grew more powerful every year and it was much safer, for all involved, for that personality to stay separate."

"It's your fault Jean is the way she is now."

"Logan, I—"

"I'm done with this shit." He leaves the room in fury and anger, door slamming behind him. The Professor sighs, and Storm moves to rest her hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry Professor…since he brought Jean back the whole mansion has been on edge, he's been—"

"—in 'love'?"

She shakes her head, "I don't know what he is anymore, I've given up trying to understand him, I've been busy—"

"—distancing yourself from everyone around you, despite their similar feelings?"

Storm stops, hands on her hips. She's given up trying to explain her position.

"Ororo, despite what you may think—and Logan's actions—many of the students and other staff hold your same fears. However, I do not approve of the rather childish methods you have used to handle Jean."

Her eyes widen, "Professor, I—"

"You've done everything you could to keep her away from anyone else, to keep her feeling guilty and alone. Jean knows better than anyone else what she has done, she doesn't need you to throw her around as if in some danger room sequence. She's unstable Storm! You know that better than most. Damaging her further will not help matters."

There is a terse silence and Storm looks on with defiant eyes. "I'm sorry Professor, but I have no idea how else I should be acting towards Jean."

"Don't antagonize her. The calmer she gets, the more easily I will be able to reason with her. I'm going to try accessing her mind again, soon, but I need you to stop adding anxiety."

Storm breaks in, "How long have you been in our brains since you woke up?"

"Just a moment when I first awoke, long enough to gage the situation and learn all I needed," he states calmly.

She nods, "I'm glad to have you back sir."

"I'm glad to _be_ back." He smiles, and the conversation ends. It is a warm blustery day outside, and the children are celebrating a free day. Celebrating by congregating outside the room, waiting for their beloved Professor to reemerge.

Upstairs, Logan is holding Jean in his arms; she's shaking violently and trying to calm down. He's wondering who did this to her—the cuts and the bruises beginning to form—and he's trying to dab at a cut on her head with a washcloth.

She's gasping, trying not to break down.

"Logan…you've got to understand, I'm glad he's alive. I'm thankful that he's alive but—it won't change anything. It won't change anything!" She's close to getting hysterical.

"It won't change anything I did and I won't—I can't have him in my head again. It's not the same when you can feel him…I can't defend myself there. I won't have him stealing pieces, everything would just start all over again."

"I'm sorry about everything Jean, I really am."

"You know he blocked some of my memories?" she whispers.

"What?"

"Early memories from when my powers first manifested…I could do things that it took me years of training to master and learn…" She trails off, eyes losing focus as Logan attempts to soothe her.

"I loved the Professor, Logan, I still do...but he took me away from what I was…and I know that things would have been different, things would have been so different…"

"We'll work on this in the morning Jean…just go to sleep now…"

Her face crinkles slightly, eyes closing: "Logan, he's in my head, he's there when I go to sleep…get him out, Logan get him out…" Jean falls asleep, hands pressed against her temples.

With a disturbed look on his face, Logan climbs to his feet and speaks lowly, "Please…just, please, leave her alone. Just for now."

Jean stirs in her sleep, arms coming to rest comfortably, hands dropping from her temples.

"Thank you."

As he climbs into the bed, next to her but not touching, he thinks she'll be insane by the time people are done trying to fix her.

* * *

A/N

Pt. 1: It said on the internet that Patrick Stewart was the guy with no brain function the whole time, they just gave him a beard. Therefore, it is technically movie canon that he is exactly the same as he was before. It makes no real sense, but I can't picture some other dude as the Professor, thus I'm not going to try making it real for you readers.

Pt. 2: This is the last chapter for several (5 at most, less if you're lucky) weeks. I apologize.

Pt. 3: The lack of reviews is semi disturbing. No, I don't mean you good people who've reviewed like every other chapter or even those that reviewed once to tell me thanks for writing. But I'd like it if anyone reading who hasn't reviewed would. They make my day :) .

Pt. 4: As always, thanks for reading. If you've made it this far, I'm glad to have entertained you.


	8. Chapter 8

Jean Grey dreams of Scott in the early afternoon light.

* * *

They stand at Alkali Lake, she in her old uniform, hair ultraviolet red. He stands in front of her, defeated, sad. Eyes cold and unbeaten by crimson flame.

In that moment, she finds time rewinding, and she is falling backwards, being pushed down, down into the lake; she's trying to scream and he only looks at her with a betrayed look on his face as she drowns.

Millions of tons of water crush Jean as she is forced below the surface and past all the times she thinks she has already died.

Jean screams as her lungs collapse, tired and helpless, cold and alone.

* * *

Scott and Jean talk and laugh alone at night, comforted in each other's arms. He talks of marriage and children and wonderful dreams. She laughs, all love and no memories.

In gazing at the stares, he tells her that he is sorry she destroyed the world.

She gasps, moves away, but Scott's holding her to tight and Jean tells him, _Scott you're hurting me!_ in a panicked voice, trembling and weak in his strong arms.

Jean can see her family that never was drowning, daughters or sons floating downwards in fiery paths, Scott broken and holding her in anguish because he did love her. She's sobbing as he shouts and she remembers how much she hurt him.

Scott holds her head down in the bathtub, and Jean cannot remember what she has done.

* * *

Jean is lying in bed with Logan; he has his arms wrapped around her.

Scott stands at the foot of the bed.

"You threw away everything, just for him?"

Moonlight spills in and she realizes that nothing adds up.

"We were going to get married, spend our lives together, Jean…you honestly see yourself doing those things with _him_? No, Jean, those things were meant for us."

She starts to shudder uncontrollably; everything is clear in the subconscious, everything's always been screwed up for her there. A vicious circle, because she cannot love Logan without guilt for the love of Scott, because she cannot be happy anyway else because the mansion and those she loves would hate her for being happy. She cannot leave because Logan would be sad and the others wouldn't care. Jean can't die because that would be giving in, and that would be her greatest desire. She can't do anything for anyone and even less for herself.

She knows less as Scott approaches her and stabs her with adamantium claws; Jean is screaming in horror and agony because this is not love.

* * *

Jean wakes up with Logan facing away from her, the stars talking and her mind racing.

She still cannot remember what happened to Scott. Jean doesn't know if she killed him and now she wonders if he is merely living another life, but knows it wouldn't change the enormity of what she did.

In the dark, Jean thinks that sleep solves nothing.

This will never end.

It is the sensation of sinking when one knows they have been drowning for far too long.

She dreams waking of Logan and fervor for life. Logan dreams of Jean and has lost the will to dwell on underground bases.

In the dark, Jean thinks that sleep solves nothing.

* * *

A/N: Ok, so ya'll got really lucky with receiving this chapter. I just saw Superman, and James Marsden's lovely face inspired me to write this chapter. Hope you like.

Pt. 2: I am not writing JOTT. It is quite possibly the most absolutely pointless thing to tell me to write such a thing.

Pt. 3: Keep reviewing! The more reviews I receive, the more inspired I am to write. I'm glad I've gained some more readers since last time I updated as well. Thanks!


	9. Chapter 9

She wakes up with her knees to her chest and the strongest of thoughts that _she will not cry. She will not cry._ Jean will try not to cry.

Outside, there are the murmurs of voices; Logan must have thought not to wake her because they are farther down the hall. Late morning sunlight is filtering in the window, her hair is a mess and her eyes are bleary with sleep and crying.

His voice comes at short intervals, bursts of fierce speech against Ororo's attempt at persuasion. Jean can hear him softening, bit by bit.

* * *

"It's his fault she's how she is now—" Logan cuts off vehemently and Storm tries to halt his speech by raising her hand.

"He only ever wanted to help her and besides you know she's emotionally imbalanced, especially now. You yourself said that this was just a side of her that'd been repressed! In that case she's trying to deal with different emotions…the Professor can help her! Logan, he can _help_ Jean."

Storm is pleading with him desperately, and he wonders why she still cares what he thinks, why she still cares for him or his antics.

He sighs and growls lowly, "I get what he's trying to do…but she can't have him in her head anymore. It's not fair; she can't do any harm now. She won't want to see him."

Storm crosses her arms and looks at him squarely. "All he wants is to speak with her, just convince Jean to speak with _him_."

The scowl on his face conveys he still isn't convinced for Jean's best interests, and Storm adds half-heartedly, "The meeting will…ease her mind."

"He won't touch her."

"No."

"That wasn't a question."

* * *

The door swings open suddenly and Jean, lost in thought, gasps at the suddenness of Logan's arrival.

For a moment, they stare at each other; he's sizing her up and trying to evaluate what mental state she's caught in today. She's looking at him and thinking how much she'd like to feel truly comforted.

He must know he looks wild and savagely alert, for his face visibly changes after watching Jean gape at him for a few seconds. She looks away and he moves to sit down next to her.

Logan's hand rests on her arm and traces up her shoulder until he is rubbing the back of her neck. Tiredly, she lets go and falls backwards, eyes closing. Even though she knows she's been sleeping more and more, Jean cannot erase the exhaustion that plagues each day. Logan's holding her in his arms, and she's mentally commanding herself to not break down.

"How'd you sleep?"

"Nightmares." Jean emotionlessly intones.

Strong hands move from her neck to her shoulders, kneading the dull ache of sleep away. "Sorry," he replies, and Jean shakes her head.

"What were you two arguing about?"

"Well…the Professor would like to see you…"

For a moment, she deflates a little in his arms, and Logan tries to brush hair away from the side of her face to gauge her reaction. Then she begins to straighten again, moving away from him towards the edge of the bed and the closet on the other side of the room.

"Well?" Logan barks, confused.

"I-I have to face him eventually..."

She moves into the bathroom, and Logan hears the shower start to run. He sighs and yells into the small room.

"I'll be there if you need me."

The showers sounds abruptly end, and still clothed, Jean steps out from the bathroom and walks towards Logan. She stares at him with a small smile and whispers, "You always are."

Jean leaves Logan with a kiss on the cheek so feather light he is too shocked to react.

By the time the ability to move returns to him, the shower has resumed, and Logan realizes she is gone.

* * *

A/N:

Pt.1: This is the first part of what I would consider a 2 part chapter. I'm just to ADD and stressed to attempt to write the second, confrontational Jean-Professor dialogue right now.

Pt.2: Thanks to the new readers have reviewed, as well as the old.

To Mariana: There is a way Scott could come back, but in my opinion, him showing up at the mansion randomly because he didn't actually die would only result in endless, absolutely endless Jean angst because she wants/really loves(I believe) Logan but loves and feels she belongs to Scott.

To Dragonwolf, Roguepixie, and Jennifer Jolie: I thank you for your kind reviews. I really don't know how else to thank you :) .

To iorekbyrn: People with open minds will conquer the world. Thanks for being a cool person.

Pt. 3: However, based on the fact that the majority of Jean/Logan stories with this many chapters have way more reviews than I do, I'm not going to think about updating until I have a minimum of 45 reviews. If more than a month passes, and that has not been achieved, I'll update.


	10. Chapter 10

Logan realizes she is gone from the moment he brings her back from Alcatraz. The only thing he debates now is whetherJean can be brought back.

He knows she is different, partly a new person but mostly the same.Logan understands she may never overcome the different emotions that threaten her sanity and what she used to-maybe still does believe in. But he still wants her and thinks late at night how things could be different.

Everyday he tries so hard to keepJean away from the edge, because Logan knows she's only inches away from disappearing into the world, either by running or surrendering completely.

* * *

Jean wakes up with only the self assertion that _she will not cry. She will not cry._

When she enters the Professor's study, Logan closing the door behind her as he steps into the hall reluctantly, it strikes her that she has no appropriate emotion for this situation. Remorse, obviously, comes to mind because Jean is truly sorry for killing him, but she does not believe even in trying to keep everyone happy that she'll let him deal with her troubled head.

She marches in, head down, and sits down on the black leather couch across from his desk. He does not move from behind the desk.

Eventually, she stutters out quietly, awkwardly, "I'm sorry." Only then does she finally look at him, eyes up, head down, the air trembling with the weight of the situation and the only words she thinks she can say without thinking something else.

He smiles, and in a voice so much stronger than hers, replies: "So am I."

There is no loving embrace to follow; she does not move and does not smile back. Glazed eyes meet his clear blue ones as she straightens her posture and gazes back at him. For a second Xavier falters, because Jean is not talking to him and is only exuding the air of a time bomb that could explode at any moment. He's only dimly aware that she's shaking and malnourished, that she probably hasn't really slept in days. It comes to him in a flash later when he tries to remember what he accessed in his first moment of waking, when he opened his mind to everything around him, that she takes searing hot showers to keep herself awake because one time she let the temperature drop and fell asleep and fell and hit her head and woke up thinking she'd drowned again and maybe it was better that way.

Xavier smiles again and warmly, sentimentally murmurs "I forgive you." It strikes Jean that she's supposed to echo the statement.

Quietly, voice still a whisper because she can't think to raise her voice more, "I don't."

There is a pause where he leans forward and looks wistful and sad.

"You'll have to let go sometime, Jean."

She is only confused now.

"It wasn't completely your fault…you realize that don't you? You never meant to hurt anyone. Once the Phoenix had gained control you had no way of—"

"It was your fault!" She hisses suddenly, bristling at yet another insistence that there was another personality running rampant in her brain, that she wasn't somehow responsible. She was responsible and didn't like the blame being deflected to something that didn't exist…but he…he was taking away his part in the equation; she hadn't a lot of control when she was younger but she had been sane, god she had been sane.

"Jean, I tried to help you—"

"Don't!"

"Your powers needed to be controlled."

"Then you should have taught me!" Bitterness laces her voice as she spits out her words, each one laced with fury she hasn't felt in a long time. "Like you said you would."

Xavier falters, face falling at her sudden mood changeas she looks at him in disdain. He tries another tactic, switching to a pleading tone.

"Don't you see now what you could have done?"

"Don't you see what I _have_ done?"

"But it was a different piece of you—"

"NO! No! Stop saying that…it was always me and it was my fault. I wanted what I did to happen…not to Scott, never to Scott…but you…you stole my control…you stole my emotions! You stole _pieces _of me!" Jean halts, fists shaking at her sides and so desperately feeling guilty for her anger and feeling proud all the while. Tears are starting to leak out of her eyes and she's fighting them back, trying to remember everything she wants to say before she loses it.

"It was all my fault…and I am sorry for what I have done…I loved you! I still love you. But—you cannot say you are not responsible…you can never, ever say that you are not responsible."

"I want to help fix my mistakes—," he practically whimpers, pleading with her.

"NO!" She shrieks, because she can feel him in her mind—with his words she can feel his cold psychic presence creeping into her brain, barely there but completely invasive and so disturbing to her now, a foreign presence picking parts of herself she can't even access.

"…no.." Jean shudders, recoiling as the presence withdraws and she begins to break again. Drawing her knees up to her chest, hands clutched to the sides of her head as her body is wracked with dry sobs, she gasps, "no." A tear stained face peers out from behind her curtain of crimson hair, and she makes eye contact with him—a desperate look hands at temples to horrified tragic gaze as he makes a move to rise but can go no further.

She stutters out, voice shaking as she tries to gain control. "I am so sorry for what I have done, but I never want you to touch me again…I am sorry for everything…but I never, ever want your help."

Jean walks to the door quickly on unsteady legs, arms crossed tightly around her chest. He lets her leave.

In the hallway, when Logan finally finds her, she can barely breathe and can only gasp out how sorry she is. Only after he's rocked her in his arms and tried to get her to calm down does he realize she meant to him that she was sorry for her skitzophrenia and sea of shifting emotions. Logan has no reply.

Afterwards, Xavier realizes he never really told Jean how sorry he was, the one initial apology was for cordiality and maybe he hadn't really come to terms with his part in the catastrophe. Afterwards, he can stillonly think that Jean assigns herself far too much of the blame.

* * *

A/N: 

1. Sorry for the super long wait. I have no excuse, other than that I was lazy. Apologies.

2. THANK YOU FOR REVIEWS. I highly appreciate the time ya'll took to say hello and from the bottom of my heart love anyone who does. Next chapter at 56 reviews please.

3. So that's that. Hope you liked this chapter, thought it was realistic. As always, I appreciate any constructive ideas or comments you might have. Thanks for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Note:

I'm sorry I've made loyal readers (if any remain) wait so long for the end of this fic. Yes, this is the end. Only recently did I receive that fateful 56th review and finally have time to start writing small ficlets like this. I hate leaving fics unfinished, primarily because I hate reading fics that end abruptly because the writer got bored. For this reason, I feel I have the responsibility to finish the story.

This is the end. I'm sorry if it is not as satisfying as you would wish; I did have greater plans for this story. I've lost touch with Jean, with the X-Men. I only hope to provide a bit of closure to this story (if not to lead you to a jumping off point, to where it might have continued, to where someone might decide to start from some other day).

Please enjoy, review, and thank you, thank you, thank you to all those who have read, enjoyed and reviewed—or simply enjoyed.

And of course, thank you to the X-Men.

* * *

Months pass, boundaries are established and life continues. After her muddled and emotional meeting with the Professor, Jean grows stronger. To most, she becomes a different person; to some, she is simply herself or something she used to be and should've been. Jean has stopped doubting the conundrums inherent in her personality and psyche and now simply accepts them. After she stormed from the Professor's office, after Logan tried to comfort her in the hallway and she could only repeat "I'm sorry" in sobs as she collapsed, she stopped apologizing. She woke up, Logan curled up behind her, and in the dark night storm (undoubtedly the result of a very angry Storm) she reached a calm and decided she was who she was, and she no longer cared what anyone else thought.

Jean was tired of crying, tired of thinking about things that could have been. Jean was exhausted from trying to separate her personalities, _before_ and _after_ and _now_. She realizes she is not immortal and wants to believe in some sort of fate. So Jean accepts that she is alive, she is changed, and stops trying to analyze herself.

She morphs into something the Professor can only analyze by saying she is half "old Jean" and half "the Phoenix personality." Jean thinks this is who she should've been all along.

Scott…Jean still doesn't understand why she destroyed Scott. Maybe it was to save him from this—from her true awareness, from the reality that when she was finally whole, she would choose Logan over him. She loved Scott and still loves him. But it's over, done with—she is still here, as is Logan.

Months after her confrontation with the Professor, Jean lies awake in bed, limbs tangled with Logan's. The humid summer night seeps in through the open window; Logan rises and falls with the breath at the nape of her neck. She hasn't broken down since that meeting and rarely thinks of Alkali Lake. She does not swim and does not leave the mansion. It is an unconscious choice, and from an analytical perspective, she has dealt with her new reality simply by not thinking about her life and past. Jean isn't simply ignoring life—she's living every day to the fullest extent she can think of, she is calm and she is poised…she is even truly happy on occasion. Her mind is simply elsewhere, in a place she does not actively seek out. It's difficult to explain, but Logan does not ask questions. He only laughs and smiles, trails kisses down her neck as she giggles and tries to return the favor.

* * *

The Professor looks at her with perplexing eyes and she must suppress the strange impulse to laugh.

They do not speak now; their conversations and words are used sparingly, pointlessly. She does not attend his classes or lectures. Jean does not attend X-Meetings. She teaches her own classes, does her own research. A part of her misses their old chats, but for the most part, she is content to let him stare at her, puzzling over what lies in her psyche, in the snap changes in her personality (ies). In their occasional chats, in the empty spaces between the Professor's false affability and the end to her sparse answers and cryptic questions, she is content to smile like a sphinx or Cheshire cat while his eyes sparkle with curiosity and maddening urge to reach out and just _touch_…to probe for only a microsecond and understand what this woman is. But he doesn't, for even though Jean lacks all power of genes, he has no idea what his gentle probing might unlock.

* * *

The mansion tolerates her. Children see her as a kindly doctor, the older inhabitants smile and make conversation. Many actually like and/or respect her. Sure, they find her slightly odd—she is kind, thoughtful, but there is a biting wit and sarcasm few remember, Jean has an edge to her words and actions and when she speaks the listener can't help but feel she knows something no one else can perceive or understand. Jean is still sweet, but now she flows and ebbs around the day. People can't help notice when she walks and speaks. Jean is hypnotic in an imperceptible way.

There still lingers that old fear, that knowledge that once she did something terrible, she murdered so many—but her state of mind extends to those who surround her.

If there is something terrible in this, they are not the ones to know.

* * *

In warm fields, cicadas buzzing in the summer air, plain grasses waving in the wind, Jean leans back into Logan's embrace. They sit against an oak tree, out in the field beyond easy sight of the mansion. He murmurs into her ear and she chuckles back, squirming in his grasp as he jokes and she laughs and he smiles.

The field hums with life, the breeze cooling the sun-baked small expanse. To Jean, this place is glowing. To Logan, this is all he's ever wanted.

* * *

Jean and Logan left in the morning, picnic basket in hand. It is late afternoon when Marie arrives at the dusk-burnt oak, tired but pale, shifting from foot to foot.

Her face is bloodless, her mouth soundlessly opening and closing, barely enough to be seen. It is unclear whether she is gasping for breath or the ability to speak.

Logan can feel fear and apprehension, confusion and slowly forming hysteria ebbing off Marie in waves. He looks her up and down, alarmed now too, his face knit and perplexed.

"Marie, what's wrong?" Logan asks loudly, all business, still holding Jean who is similarly troubled.

Marie's wearing a white lacy shirt and a pale red skirt; her outfit contrasts with her dusty black gloves.

She gapes; the words tumble out in strange, uncontrollable tongue. "The news…it's all over the news. We were just watching—but—but the serum…they're saying. I was afraid!" Her voice starts to falter, but she continues on.

"I was afraid…Bobby, I mean, I could've…we don't know…they're testing everybody but I thought I should let you guys know because of Jean and—and—and—"

At this point, Marie's voice completely breaks and she sinks to her knees in the twilight, words fading to sobs as she shakes, tears falling in the field. Logan immediately moves to comfort her and remembers, Jean is sitting on my lap as an afterthought, and realizes suddenly why it did not occur to him sooner. Jean is already gone; she's at the edge of the field, sprinting away from him towards the mansion.

As the sun fades, Jean is gone, and Logan is alone in the field with Marie, who wears gloves. Marie wears gloves. He does not know how to comfort her, but is so sorry.

* * *

The entire mansion is gathered in the living room, the news networks are bursting with pundits and reporters and reports of the serum failing, mutants reasserting their powers, high security prison breaks and the need to reestablish control and so much pandemonium. Everyone in the mansion stands in fear as different mutants everywhere are shepherded off to confinement and bedrooms and told don't come down to dinner just stay where you are!

And in the future, there will be chaos like never before. In the near future, they will find Jean locked in the Med Bay, numerous drained needles jammed in to her arms and legs, sobbing hysterically, "It doesn't work…Nothing works!"

And in the future, everything will change and become as it once was. In the spirit of Jean's initial transformation, society returns to hating mutants, the Brotherhood returns to hating everyone, and the Mansion returns to a high security fortress school.

Nobody touches Jean anymore—they say she's unstable and she stays in isolation with Logan as her only comfort and the Professor's voice from another room as her only outside contact. Strange how she could find him and rip him to shreds easily despite the separation.

She has no wish to do so, no wish to hear Ororo's screamed arguments with mansion dwellers about _putting her down!_ Jean hears these things unbidden, and screams because she doesn't want to bear this and doesn't want to worry about destroying everything she cares about.

In the future, planes and army bases aim missiles and rockets toward the mansion, and only Jean knows.

And in the future, ironically, only Jean, the most unstable and damaged, can in her infinite awareness save them all.

But in the present, at the edge of darkened field, Jean crumples to the ground, silent torrents of tears hitting the dusty ground as she glimpses the rest of time. And as waves of unbidden power surge through her veins, she can see these pictures of the future and in her infinite power, feels only as if she is drowning.

* * *

Fin. 


End file.
